


Stay in School, Kid

by thealphadog



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Clint Barton is a massive Dork, F/M, Fluff, High-School, Multi, Natasha Romanov is such a Mom, Original six, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Science Bros, Steve Rogers doesn't know he's Beautiful, Thor is too Pure for this World, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-03-26 12:07:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13857462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphadog/pseuds/thealphadog
Summary: Peter has a rough week at school—Or, the Avengers just happen to be the patron’s of Midtown School of Science and Technology.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I have no clue how this idea didn't come to me sooner. I was reminded that High-school au's are totally a thing, but then realised that with Peter it's literally not an au at all- he'd in high school haha. 
> 
> I set it a few years after everything, and just forgot about Thanos and Infinity War in terms of time because fuck Thanos and fuck Infinity War, fuck these character dying and suffering. Let's have some high school fluff instead, with History teacher Steve.
> 
> Because yes. 
> 
> Enjoy x

“I’m pleased to announce that the Avengers will be joining us next week and teaching workshops all week!” The principal gained an excited round of applause from the whole school; everyone—

 

Except Peter Parker. 

 

Because sure, he may work for the Stark Internship, but that internship is all a sham. Not that anyone else knows that though, besides his aunt, Ned and the Avengers themselves. All that was circling through Peter’s mind was having to spend a week being overly vigilant, overly paranoid, and over-bared by his secret second family. 

 

No one wanted Spider-man’s identity to be a secret more than Peter did, but that didn’t mean that the Avengers weren’t prepared to start pushing his buttons to the point of no return. They often teased him about why he had to be constantly undercover, why the world couldn’t know who he was— 

 

“Maybe he’s not photogenic.” Tony joked.

 

“Don’t be stupid, that kid is gonna break hearts someday,” Nat chimed in, sending Steve a raised eyebrow. The Captain smiled. 

 

“He’s only seventeen. He’s allowed to keep a secret like this. I suspect his classmates would be all over him if they ever found out.” 

 

Tony took a swig of his coffee. 

 

“Rogers always ruins my fun,” He placed the mug on the kitchen counter, turning to his other teammates. His face was void of all jokes now, and it made the others change their own expressions. “This is the first time since Berlin and the Accords that the press is actually seeing us together. Plus, it’s at a high school. We all need to be on best behaviour.”

 

Clint scoffed, crossing his arms. 

 

“If anyone is going to behave badly around the kid, I wanna place a bet that it’ll be you, Tony.” Tony playfully clutched a hand over his arc reactor. 

 

“That hurts, Clint. The distrust in your voice cuts deep,”

 

The conversation ended after that, with everyone going off to pack up their stuff for the week ahead, grins on their faces. 

 

-

 

Peter looked dead. Utterly. 

 

“Did you even sleep last night?” 

 

He gave Ned a slight head wobble. “I didn’t sleep all weekend.” 

 

“They’re not exactly going to make it obvious, though. They’re your teammates, not your enemies—,”

 

Peter shot Ned a death stare, the bags under his eyes practically holding his best friend at gun point. Peter’s hair was tussled beyond belief, his lips were so chapped they looked like a paved walkway, and his eyes so full of anger and fear that it was only a matter of time before someone got punched. 

 

“You don’t know them like _I_ do,” He slumped forward, his eyes staring at the wall in front of him, his bag weighing him down. “This week is going to feel like _seven years_.” 

 

Peter slumped down on his desk in homeroom, his head hitting the table immediately. Why did the Avengers just happen become patrons of Midtown High School? Why did that mean they had to physically teach at the school— for a whole week? Peter had some questions that he’d like to ask the higher ups of the school board, but they fluttered out of his mind as soon as his homeroom teacher walked in. 

 

Natasha was wearing a simple black suit, her hair down, her eyes piercing straight into Peter’s. 

 

The whole class visibly shook with nerves. _The Black Widow_ was their homeroom teacher? What the hell? 

 

“Hello everyone, my name is Natasha Romanoff,” she picked up a piece of chalk and scribbled her name on the board in English, and below it in Russian. “I expect you all to memorise the spelling of my name is Russian by the end of the week. Knowing another language builds character,” her eyes passed over Peter’s; his throat physically closed up. 

 

There was something still intimidating about Nat, despite her wearing a stupid suit, and reading names out for morning registration. It was like she was interrogating you with every name dropped. Every time someone didn’t answer fast enough, her eyes would immediately find them in the room; they would stare in disbelief at her, wondering how the hell she knew who’s name it was, wondering how the hell she could pick out their face before even knowing them. 

 

That was Natasha Romanoff for you. 

 

“Peter Parker,” she called out, but Peter was staring out of a crack in the classroom door. Because there was Steve, being briefed by Mr Geller, the history teacher. 

 

_Was this seriously happening?_

 

Peter swallowed, and turned back to answer his name; 

 

Natasha was an inch away from his face, staring him down like a pig for slaughter. The entire class was silent, waiting to see what she would do, waiting to see what Peter looked like with a bullet through his skull, or a knife lodged in his throat. 

 

“Here,” Peter said, not even bothering to hide the fact he was _sweating profusely._  

 

Nat smiled sweetly, ticking off his name sharply on a clipboard, before heading back to the front of the class. Peter finally breathed out, his body slumping even further into his seat, a cold gust of tension flying directly through his body.

 

He turned to Ned, who looked equally as afraid. “So, seven years, huh?” Ned’s voice shook as he whispered. And Peter snapped his eyes shut in pain. 

 

-

 

“I had _Bruce Banner_ for homeroom today. It was the most surreal thing I think I’ve ever experienced,” MJ strolled down the corridor with Peter. His mind was well and truly in the gutter, the absence of sleep that weekend not seeming to help at all. Mentally he was already exhausted, and all he’d had to deal with was Natasha intimidating everyone who came within a ten metre radius of her. 

 

He thought he’d at least be able to handle her, but she was _intentionally_ acting scary in front of everyone. Sure, back in the compound her and Peter got along. They weren’t close friends in anyway, but they weren’t strangers. She’d never been scary while making a cup of coffee, or reading over a mission file on the couch. 

 

But all of that had gone out of the window with _one stare._

 

“Peter?” MJ chided, and he came back to reality. He hummed and looked up at MJ’s concerned face. “You look exhausted.” She added, and Peter smiled sarcastically. 

 

“Thanks,” MJ chuckled slightly. 

 

“This is me,” She pointed to the English classroom. The two of them peered inside, and Peter made a noise that could only be described as a squeal. Dressed in a suit, hair tied back, stacking copies of ‘Catcher in the Rye’;

 

Was _Thor._

 

He spotted the two of them immediately, his eyes grazing over Peter’s, but making no indication of knowing him. “More students!” He opened his arms wide, encasing both MJ and Peter in a hug. When he released, Peter noticed how red MJ’s face had turned. “Come on in, then,” He stepped aside, and MJ walked inside the class, looking more than a bit flustered. 

 

She turned back quickly, giving Peter an embarrassed smile. “I’ll— see you at lunch.” 

 

Thor waved cheerily back at Peter, and he scowled. 

 

His next class was in the lab, and his heart wished for Dr Banner. But as he turned the corner and down the stairs to the laboratory, he could already hear Tony’s voice coming from the classroom. He stomped his feet, cursing to himself, just before standing in the door way. 

 

Tony turned around, his yellow glasses donned, his beard freshly trimmed in his signature style. The classic combo of jeans, t-shirt and blazer made Peter frown even more at his mentor. 

 

“ _Oh_ ,” Tony said, coming over to the kid. Even his smile looked annoying. “Fresh meat,” 

 

Tony turned his head to the rest of the class, and Peter walked into the lab further, wanting to take a look and who else was in the class— 

 

Ned smiled awkwardly from the middle of the class, sending an even more awkward wave to his best friend. Tony waved back, his smug face filling Peter with thoughts of how he was going to get out of this lesson;

 

So far, all he could think about doing was _strangling_ Tony to the point of no return. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

As the class filled out, all Peter focused on was the sound of his fingers tapping against his desk. Ned was equally as anxious sitting next to his best friend, so much so that he hadn’t looked anyone in the eye since he entered the classroom. 

 

Tony was _loving it_ ; the attention; the power; the fact that he was going to be able to embarrass Peter for five days straight. He was surrounded by a small huddle of students, all of them looking at him like he was made out of pure gold. 

 

“Did you bring the suit?” One of them asked, and Tony scoffed. 

 

“Uh, _yeah_. Who do you think I am? Someone who doesn’t _commit?_ ” That gained him an excited laugh all round. They were lapping up his words like he’d taken them all in personally, and it made Peter want to throw up. 

 

Everyone eventually took their seats, and Tony scribbled his name on the board. 

 

“That’s me, Tony Stark, hi,” he waved at the class, then threw the chalk on the floor. “So— you wanna be an engineer? Well, you’ve come to the right place.” 

 

Peter wanted to shout that they technically didn’t have a choice in which lessons they could participate in. He also just wanted to shout in general. 

 

“Who knows, maybe one day you guys might even be working with _me_ on something,” Peter winced. He knew where this was going, and Tony wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this. “My internship program is only open to the most advanced though— isn’t that right _Peter_?” 

 

Tony leaned on the front desk menacingly, his grin personally challenging Peter to make a retort. The whole class turned to him, and he felt like a fly that had just flown into someone’s mouth. He didn’t try to hide his scowl at Tony. He clenched his jaw until it hurt, his leg bobbing up a down beneath the table. 

 

“Yeah, it is.” He looked Tony in the eye. “That explains why we never see you around.” 

 

Silence. 

 

And the dreaded sound of Tony Stark scoffing to himself. 

 

“Alright then,” Tony took off his glasses, wiping them with his t-shirt. “Go stand in the hall,”

 

“What?” Peter blurted out. 

 

“In the hall. _Now_.” Tony repeated, and this time it was like he was holding Peter at gunpoint. Despite all the fun and games, Tony Stark was frightening. He was also, technically, Peter’s lab teacher for this class. 

 

Which sucked. _Ass_. 

 

He rolled his eyes as he got up from the desk, dragging his feet low and stuffing his hands into his pockets. Playing the ‘delinquent’ wasn’t really Peter’s thing; but around the Avengers? It was like he _wanted_ to piss them off. 

 

Peter tried so hard to drown out the noise of Tony’s suit thrusters coming from inside the classroom. He tried not to think about how he looked standing outside the class awkwardly. He also tried not to swear loudly when Clint came strolling down the hall, his face in the biggest, shit-eating grin. 

 

“My _god_ ,” He began, and Peter physically rolled his eyes, leaning against the end of some lockers and praying that Barton would fuck off. “I love it when Tony get’s like this,” Clint chuckled loudly, clutching his torso. 

 

All Peter did was mime a sarcastic laugh, before scowling. _Again_. For the _umpteenth_ time in the space of two hours. 

 

Clint smacked Peter’s shoulder harshly, almost sending him plummeting to the floor. “Buck up, Parker. Embrace us.”

 

“ _Embrace you?_ How can I embrace you when you’re all personally trying to ruin my, admittedly small, reputation in this place?” Clint raised an eyebrow. 

 

“Reputation, huh? What’s that for? Being a mega dork?” 

 

It was official— _Clint Barton was a child inside a man’s body_. A child with three kids of his own, and a damn wife. 

 

Hawkeye shuffled away after that, his laughter filling the corridor horribly. It was insane that it hadn’t even been one day yet, and that he had another four to go. I mean, Peter Parker is _Spider-Man_ , is he not? Is he not on the same level as the other Avengers, his teammates? 

 

Surely, everyone is wondering _where the hell_ Spider-Man was in all this? 

 

Peter’s lip upturned, a devious smile curling onto his face, an even worse idea sneaking into his mind.  

 

-

 

“Come again?” MJ asked, squinting at Ned. 

 

“He said he needed to go and wallow in his own depressive pity for a while,” Ned avoided MJ’s gaze. “I don’t know why he’s feeling like that, though,” He stuffed some garlic bread in his mouth. 

 

MJ sighed, but dropped it. She knew Peter well enough to know that he was weird. 

 

The chatter of the cafeteria suddenly subsided as the Avengers strolled in. The six of them looked like your average teachers; Steve wore a simple polo shirt and khakis; Clint wore a thin rain jacket and track pants; Nat looked like a secretary in her dress suit; Bruce had on his trusty purple shirt; Tony was being himself; and Thor looked like the sexy English teacher dad from the popular game _Dream Daddy_ — 

 

Never before had a room gone so silent just from one glance, but in that Midtown school, they’d just broken the streak— 

 

Because in walked Spider-Man, dressed in a shirt and jeans over his suit, his mask still on. 

 

Peter winked at Ned. Ned dropped his fork in his pasta. MJ’s eye twitched. 

 

And Tony Stark has gone a beautiful shade of _rouge._

 

“Hey, guys,” Peter spoke up cheerfully, trying to ignore the faces of the Avengers that stood in front of him. “Have you tried to casserole here? I hear it’s pretty decent,” Peter waved as he went to chat to the lunch lady, the Avengers frozen where they stood. 

 

All expect Thor, who shrugged his shoulders and immediately joined Peter at the food counter. After a while the silence turned back into normal high-school chit chat. The Avengers found a table, all of them sat with their food;

 

_None of them uttered a single word for forty five minutes._

 

Peter picked up an apple. “Y’know, I bet I’d be good as a superhero teacher. It’s just a shame I can’t actually eat in front of people.” Tony’s nostrils flared at the kid. 

 

“After that bell rings at 2:45, I’m going to solder that mask to your face just so I can rip it off.” He stabbed his quinoa salad, stuffing a bunch of spinach in his mouth and chewing violently. Steve scowled at Peter, crossing his arms ready to speak. 

 

“You’re _such a_ —,”

 

“A what? A maniac? A loveable guy? We’re all on the edge of our seats here—,"

 

“You’re such a _dickhead_.” Peter grinned beneath his mask. 

 

Unknown to the Avengers, Peter had mentally ticked off a few things from his bucket list that day:

 

  1. Sass back Tony Stark,
  2. Go to school as Spider-Man, and
  3. Make Captain America say ‘dickhead'. 



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK WHOA? Another blown up fic? You guys treat me too well, I dont deserve this beautiful love and support. 
> 
> This fic is so different to the stuff I usually write, but I'm actually really enjoying writing it! 
> 
> Enjoy x


	3. Chapter 3

“Only day three…” Peter whispered to himself, stuffing all the useless worksheets that Thor had handed out in English class, which should technically be named Asgard class, into his locker.

 

“The nine realms, all ruled by Asgard, are the reason our kingdom is so powerful.” Thor pulled a whiteboard pen out of his pocket, a massive grin on his face. “There are no known pictures of the kingdom, so—“ He sprung into action on the board, drawing his own rendition of the magical city.

 

It was no Picasso. It was no Monet. Heck, it wasn’t even a Matisse. 

 

Thor beamed after he finished drawing, presenting something that resembled a five year olds picture of a castle, surrounded by a few trees and blobs as people for good measure. 

 

“Just imagine the bridge is shining a billion colours, and it’ll _really_ come to life.” 

 

Peter had to stop himself from slamming his head against his desk. Not just from Thor’s, frankly shitty, artwork, but from how the rest of the class had turned into _mannequins_ ; wide-eyed, starstruck, _blushing_ mannequins. Even Ned looked like he was ready to snog the prince’s face off. 

 

“He’s just— so _large_.” MJ mumbled, chewing on a piece of pizza. Peter choked on his falafel.

 

“Not _you_ too,” He sulked. MJ furrowed her eyebrows. 

 

“I get the feeling you’re hating having the Avengers here, Peter.” 

 

“Why would you think that?” Peter asked, just as Thor strolled into the cafeteria, sending a few waves at various flustered students. He scowled, stuffing his face with another mouthful of food. 

 

MJ flicked her fork at him. “ _That’s_ why I think it. All your faces— your stares. It looks like you _resent_ them.” 

 

“You think too much,” Peter spoke with his mouth full, shovelling as much of his food into his face as he could and grabbing his tray, going to place it on the trolley. He swallowed painfully, his face bright red, and came back to the table. “I need to head to the lab for this weeks project. See you guys later,” 

 

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled out of the cafeteria, but not before Tony turned the corner right into him. Tony gripped Peter’s shoulders, steadying the both of them, and took the time to seek out Ned and MJ sitting at their table. Tony smiled at MJ. She blushed violently.  

 

“Nice friends you have there, kid. That Ned guy— he’s pretty smart, isn’t he?” 

 

“Yeah,” Peter managed. 

 

“And that girl, _Michelle_ , right? She’s nice, too,” 

 

“Yeah,” Peter repeated, mumbling a bit this time, trying to conceal his face. Tony’s mouth upturned. 

 

“Hm,” He removed his hands from Peter’s shoulders, stuffing his hands in his blazer pockets and sniffing. “See you next lesson then.” Tony stepped into the cafeteria, and Peter almost yelled. 

 

He had Tony _next_? _Again?_

 

Peter tried not to drag his feet as he made his way to the lab, but it was impossible. This was fast becoming the worst week of his life, and it wasn’t going to go away after the Avengers left his high-school; it was going to continue for a long time afterwards; at the compound; in the classroom; he was _never_ going to get a break. 

 

Peter worked on his project all through lunch, his headphones on. He was well and truly in the zone whenever he spent time alone in the lab, focusing hard on the mechanics of the project at hand, analysing circuit boards, and so on. He was so encased in his work, that he didn’t even notice when Bruce Banner came up beside him— 

 

“Nice dynamics,” Peter jumped out of his skin, spirally back into another table. He fumbled with his headphones and managed to switch them off. 

 

“Dr. Banner, I didn’t hear you come in—,”

 

“This design,” Bruce fiddled with Peter’s work. “It’s really clever, Peter.” Bruce gave him a winning smile, one that even Peter couldn’t scowl at. 

 

When he was on his own, Bruce Banner was probably the nicest guy Peter knew. 

 

But when he was with _Tony_ — 

 

“Someone’s keen to learn,” Tony’s shrill voice entered the lab, and Peter didn’t try to hide his frown. “Did Bruce tell you we’re merging our classes today?”

 

Merging the classes. 

 

That meant— Tony and Bruce— _Bruce and Tony_ — teaching— _together._

 

“You’re— teaching _together_?” Peter practically wheezed it out.

 

Bruce strolled over to Tony, smacking his hand on his shoulder. “Yep, both classes have us for a full two hours.” 

 

“Both classes— _together_?” Peter’s voice cracked, just as MJ and Ned knocked subtly on the door frame. 

 

Tony caught Peter’s eye then, his yellow sunglasses making him feel ill. He knew that look; it was a look that said _get ready to be embarrassed, kid_. It was a look that said _I’m going to make your life hell for the next two hours._

 

It was a look that said _I know your secret._

 

MJ was his secret, one that he’d been keeping since the start of his junior year; one that Tony Stark wouldn’t care throwing around like an old piece of his suit. 

 

“Are we too early?” MJ asked, a smile on her face. Peter went back to fiddling with his project. 

 

“Not at all!” Bruce beamed, welcoming them both into the class. Ned immediately bustled over to his best friend, while MJ chatted with the two ‘Science Bros’ a bit more. 

 

Peter packed up his project, ignoring Ned’s small comments and trying so hard to tell himself not to get sucked in by Tony’s mind games. Either way, though— 

 

_This was probably going to be the worst two hours of Peter’s life._  

 

-

 

The class was full to the brim, but Tony nor Bruce seemed phased. 

 

In fact, the only person who was vaguely nervous was Peter himself, because he had no idea what the two of them had in store for him over the next two hours. Whatever it was, the look on Tony’s face had confirmed that it was going to be _bad._  

 

“OK, everyone,” Tony shouted, clapping his hands. Everyone quiet downed immediately, their excitement evident by the way their eyes followed the Dr and the philanthropist. 

 

They stood together at the front, hands in pockets, smiles wide and professional. 

 

“So, I’m Tony—,”

 

“And I’m Bruce—,”

 

“And we’re, somewhat, the Avengers top guys’ for all lab work.”

 

“Suits, DNA—,”

 

“Molecules, robots—,” Tony winked a student in the front row, and Peter growled to himself. “All that jazzy stuff that your moms’ hope you never find out about,” 

 

Bruce typed a few things on his laptop, and up popped a powerpoint presentation, titled— 

 

“Iron Man vs Science Man!” Bruce boomed. Science Man. What the _fuck_? Peter admired Bruce a whole lot; the guy was a damn genius. But seriously? This had to be some kind of joke. “So, here’s the deal—,”

 

“You’ll be assigned to either me or Bruce, and you guys have two hours to come up with a suit design for your team.”

 

Peter refrained from rolling his eyes; two of the smartest guys in the world and this is the lesson they came up with for high school students? Jeez. 

 

Tony cleared his throat. He got out a crumpled piece of paper from his blazer pocket. “OK— everybody up!” 

 

He lined the class up at the front of the room, and separated the lab into two sections. The two of them had obviously picked which students they wanted on their teams; it was totally biased, considering that both Tony and Bruce knew Peter. Tony started reading out students names then, and he watched as they obediently got up and went to either side of the room. 

 

All Peter heard was his name being read out by Tony Stark, but it was enough to send bile running up his throat. Of course Tony would put him on his team, and by team he meant _prison_. 

 

Bruce got both MJ and Ned; Peter knew it was no coincidence. 

 

“OK, team Iron Man, huddle up!” It was happening; Bruce and Tony were competing against each other, using high schoolers imaginations to win. Was this even _legal_? Needless to say, Peter held back from the huddle, his arms folded and his face revealing how much he wished a car would crash into the building and crush him.

 

“Parker,” Tony said, his face inches away from the kid’s. Peter stared at his mentor with blank eyes. “Don’t be a social recluse, now. I thought you had a _reputation_ here?” Tony smacked Peter’s back, sending a jolt of rage down his spine, and causing the other members of team Iron Man to laugh at his expense.

 

The team started designing the suit; Tony oversaw their ideas, adding a comment here and there, and a joke every _two seconds_. Peter sat with them, he wrote stuff down occasionally, but as far as this activity was going it wasn’t actually that bad; watching his classmates create the _worst_ suit he’d ever seen was actually quite entertaining. 

 

Every so often he’d glance at Tony, whose face was scrunched up with confusion at their design. “Hey, kid—“ Tony came and perched next to Peter, his forehead looked shiny. “Not that I don’t _love_ the orange and green combination, or the in-built cupholders and laser pointer that this team is creating, it’s just that I— _don’t love it_.” Peter chuckled at Tony’s blatant attempt to get him to input an idea of worth. 

 

“Had a glance at Bruce’s suit, it’s pretty good, actually,” Peter sensed the spike in Tony’s anxiety, his _need_ to win. 

 

“ _Ugh_ , Bruce,” Tony mumbled. “Always on his science high horse.” Tony shoved his glasses back on in some attempt to conceal his worry. “Look, Peter. You’re a smart kid, _the smartest_ ; don’t you think you could just—,”

 

“Make you win?” Peter raised his eyebrows. Tony stuck out his lip. “What’s the fun in that?” 

 

Tony’s eyes flashed bright red. 

 

This fight wasn’t over, there were still two days left of this week, and Peter was still so not over the fact that Tony had sent him out of the class on Monday. He so wasn’t over the fact that every time he saw the billionaire in the corridor he’d have to deal with a snarky comment, a smack on his back, or a grin that told him that another round of humiliation wasn’t far away. 

 

“You’re gonna be like that, huh?” Tony whispered, and all of a sudden Peter felt a bad omen wash over him. Tony got up then, flashing him with a devious smile, and went over to the rest of team Iron Man. “OK, group! So, I’ll elect a spokesperson to sell the suit, make it a real winner, sign all the contracts— and all that. They’ll go up to the front and argue against Bruce’s design.” 

 

Peter stopped breathing.

 

“I elect Peter Parker.” Everyone turned to Peter. 

 

Well, _fuck._

 

As the class gathered together once more, Peter’s heart was in his mouth. It wasn’t just that public speaking wasn’t his forte, or that his team’s design was utter crap; it was that the spokesperson for Bruce’s team was none other than _MJ._  

 

Peter shuffled to the front of the class, holding the various shitty blu-prints his group had come up with. 

 

MJ faced him, her eyebrows raised, an amused smile on her face. 

 

Tony gripped Peter’s shoulders suddenly, and he went rigid. 

 

“ _Checkmate_.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't love some science bros? Who doesn't love Tony and Peter being petty bitches?
> 
> Enjoy x


	4. Chapter 4

“So—,” Bruce began, clapping his hands together and glancing over both teams blu-prints. “May the best suit win.” MJ shot Peter a strong grin; he tried not to fully turn into a tomato. Come on, he’d managed to keep his feelings for MJ hidden for a good year now, and the Avengers invading his high school for a week wasn’t going to break that.

 

Even if it broke Peter himself. 

 

MJ coughed a little, laying out the blu-prints on some boards and getting ready to pitch. She was amazing at public speaking; she’d never refrain from giving as many people eye contact as she could; and her hair would always end up falling in front of her eyes in the moment; and she’d never push it away because of how in the zone she was.

 

In this department, and a lot of others, MJ excelled. 

 

And Peter had to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from yelling out about how much he admired her. Well, it was that and also the occasional glances at Tony’s face that brought him back to himself. 

 

Tony and Bruce sat on a desk at the back of the room, both listening intently to MJ’s pitch. Their suit was made out of vibranium, and featured different levels of intelligent technology, including tracking and a scoping drone. 

 

“The dark colour of the suit allows the wearer to be undetectable at night time, while also blending in during the day time.” 

 

The more MJ talked, the more Peter could hear his heart beating in his chest. There was no denying their suit was miles better than Team Iron Man’s, and the panic behind Tony’s eyes only made this public speaking debacle more terrifying in Peter’s mind. 

 

The class applauded excitedly, and Peter’s eyes shot to MJ’s. She looked flustered, her cheeks red, but she also looked at ease. She’d done what she set out to do, and she’d done it amazingly. 

 

Tony strolled over to the front of the class and clasped MJ by her shoulders. “You—,” he muttered. “Look, if you need a job after high-school, just call me.” MJ blushed violently, tucking her hair behind her ears and going to sit next to Ned. Peter glanced over at his best friend, who sent him a half-hearted thumbs up. 

 

“Mr Parker?” Bruce chimed in, his arms crossed. Peter gulped. “Ready to start?” All Peter could manage was a slight nod. If he moved anymore he was scared he’d throw up right there on the lab floor. 

 

Since he was young, Peter Parker had never been good at public speaking. Presentations scared the shit out of him, and just thinking about more than five pairs of eyes staring at him made him want to catapult himself through a wall. 

 

Then— 

 

He’d changed. 

 

Spider-Man was an outlet for him, somewhere he could be seen in a way that didn’t make his anxiety spike to a hundred. When he was behind a mask, he felt safe. When he was behind a mask, he felt free. 

 

But right now, he wasn’t behind a mask; he was standing at the front of the lab with over forty pairs of eyes looking directly at him. He was standing in front of two of the worlds finest scientists; two of his secret teammates; the girl he’d liked since last year; his best friend since his first day at Midtown— 

 

And he was ready to melt into the floor. 

 

He cleared his throat, wiping away the sweat on his forehead. He didn’t dare to look at MJ, because he knew she’d be smiling at him in the most smug way. Laying out the blu-prints on the boards, he took the deepest breath he could without fainting, his brain trying to wrap itself around some coherent words to get the ball rolling. 

 

But he was immediately interrupted;

 

“Ambush!” Clint yelled, after opening the door to the lab, his gaze aimed straight for Stark and Banner. 

 

Without warning, his gym class came running inside the lab, each of them carrying a dodgeball. The scramble to duck underneath tables and behind doors began, and Peter found himself shoved up against MJ under the teachers desk. Ned clutched a wheely chair for dear life. 

 

Clint’s students backed Bruce and Tony up against the back wall of the lab, their hands raised high. 

 

“Now, now, Clint— let’s discuss this like the grown men we are.” Tony’s voice cut through the noise of scraping desks. 

 

MJ elbowed Peter in the ribs. She turned to him, flustered. “Sorry— it’s small under here.” She whispered. Peter chuckled, wanting to put her at ease. 

 

“I’d much rather be squished down here than a dodgeball target up there.” 

 

“Good point,” they smiled at each other, and MJ placed her arm down as gently as she possibly could on Peter’s knee. 

 

He focused on making sure she couldn’t see his neon red face.

 

“Grown men we may be, Tony. But that doesn’t mean an old fashioned ambush should be off the cards.” Clint placed his hand on the shoulder of one of his students. “Take aim,”

 

The group of thirty or so students, all dressed in gym shorts and t-shirts with knee high socks, readied their dodgeballs. It was easy to see that most of them were aiming at both Bruce and Tony’s heads. 

 

“Ready—,” Tony lurched forward, his arms up. 

 

“Whoa, wait. Clint, come on. Let’s talk about this.” Clint raised an eyebrow at his teammate. Bruce said nothing. “Just—,” Tony took in a deep breath. “ _Not the face._ ”

 

“ _Fire!_ ” Clint yelled. 

 

It was a blood bath. Tony and Bruce lay crumpled on the ground as Clint’s students filed out of the lab. Tony’s jacket was half off his shoulders, his yellow glasses cracked and askew on his face. Bruce’s face was already bruising, his purple shirt creased and battered. Peter peered over the top of the teachers desk as the last of Clint’s students left the class. The archer turned to him;

 

“Hey, Parker,” Peter visibly hesitated, ducking back down a little. Clint smiled, sending him a wink and a head nod over to Tony and Bruce. “ _You’re welcome._ ” 

 

-

 

“It seems your resentment has become known,” MJ placed her chin on her hand, her eyes delving deep into Peter’s.

 

“I’m not exactly trying to hide it,” he scribbled down some more science notes. The two of them sat in the empty History classroom. It was fifth period, Wednesday; their studying time. 

 

And by studying it meant gossiping, or moping, or just— doing _anything_ but actually studying.

 

“Why do you hate them so much? I just don’t get it.” MJ looked down at the desk, picking at the wood with her nails. The only people who knew about him, besides the Avengers themselves, were Ned and Aunt May. Telling MJ could go three ways— 

 

One; she doesn’t care. She treats him the same as she always has.

 

Two; she treats him like a different person. Not like the nerd he’s always been, not like the friends that they are.

 

Three; _she never talks to him again._

 

Peter didn’t know why she’d never talk to him again if she found out. But that was the worst case scenario; that was a scenario he’d never want to happen. 

 

“I don’t hate them. I hate the fact that they’re _here_ — that they’re teaching us. I feel like I’m being patronised every time one of them speaks to me.” 

 

“ _Oh_ ,” MJ muttered, her voice trailing off, but her eyes flicking up to Peter’s. He looked back at her, a small smile appearing on his lips. “Well, it must be hard considering the internship and all, as well.” 

 

Peter scribbled down some more notes. 

 

“You don’t know the half of it...” he whispered.

 

All he wanted was for this week to be over; he wanted the Avengers out of his personal space. But instead— 

 

He’d jinxed it.

 

Because in strolled Steve. 

 

“Oh,” he muttered, his bicep wrapped around twenty or so History text books. “You guys studying?” He smiled politely at the both of them; MJ smiled back; Peter was suddenly very interested in the floor.

 

“Senior year isn’t going to pass itself.” 

 

“You got that right,” Steve chuckled, walking over to the front desk and smacking down the books. “Though, this is the first time I’ve been to a high-school since 1937.” He sat on the desk, crossing his arms and draping one of his legs on the top. 

 

MJ blushed, not knowing how to reply to something like that. Peter traced her face, wondering if now was a good time to finish their study group.

 

“You’re Michelle, right?” MJ visibly double-taked. She nodded once. “Yeah, thought so. Tony won’t stop talking about his last class; your presentations and things,” 

 

By things, he meant Clint. Tony had probably sworn Rogers to secrecy about now. Poor Bruce was probably still bruising. 

 

Steve caught eyes with Peter, and the kid’s heart stopped. Steve’s eyes travelled back and forth between him and MJ, and Peter could have sworn he saw the Captain’s eyebrow raise.

 

That was it.

 

“Anyway—,” Peter launched himself up from the desk. “We should probably get to our next class.” MJ looked at him like he was insane.

 

“This is our next class, dumbass.” She laughed, but suddenly turned to Steve with a red face. She’d just said _ass_ in front of Captain America. Fuck.

 

“She’s right,” Steve picked up a textbook and launched it at Peter. He caught it, but not before it slammed straight into him abdomen. “For the next hour, you’ve got me and the great history of America for company.” 

 

Peter slumped into his chair again, staring at the wall in front of him as the class started to fill up again.

 

What was worse than _just_ Captain America? 

 

Captain America— 

 

Teaching American History.

 

“ _God bless, America!_ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm so sorry this took like 12 years for me to post. Things have been hectic and it took me a while to get back into writing as a whole, but I'm glad I did! 
> 
> Please don't hesitate to give me ideas and such down in the comments; this fic is as much yours as it is mine.
> 
> Enjoy x


	5. Chapter 5

MJ stayed behind after history class. Peter didn’t know why, nor did he want to wait behind with her. Once again he felt like his identity was on the line being in a class taught by someone else who knew who he truly was. And despite Steve actually getting on with the lesson he’d planned, Peter’s anxiety was at 110%.

 

“How was school?” Aunt May stirred something that looked dangerously like walnut-date loaf in a pot. He huffed, dropping his bag to the floor and plummeting head first onto the couch.

 

“Do I even have to answer?” May smiled to herself.

 

“If you’re so bothered by how they’re acting, why don’t you just tell them to back off?”

 

Peter’s brow twitched. Was it really as simple as _that?_ As telling the Avengers to back off a bit for the remaining two days of this _torturing hell?_ Surely they _knew_ they were being borderline abusive to him?

 

Surely they _cared_ how he felt?

 

“I don’t think it’s that easy,” Peter crossed his legs, pulling a cushion to his chest. “They’d just joke about me being sensitive.”

 

Aunt May stopped stirring, and pointed the spoon at her nephew. “ _Buck up_ , kid.” Peter stared at his aunt in confusion. “Talk to them, they’re your _damn_ teammates, Peter. Of course they like picking on you, but if it’s really getting to you this bad— _give them a good kick up the ass._ ” May raised her brow. “Or, _for gods sake_ , I will.” She went back to stirring the pot, and Peter moved to his room.

 

Was May right? Was it going to be as simple as _talking_ to them?

 

There were only two days of this hell left, maybe Peter could get by just ignoring them?

 

_No way._ He’d tried that for months in the compound and for these first three days, and still his anxiety made him react badly. Was this all because he was afraid of them outing him?

 

Or was it because of something else?

 

MJ popped into Peter’s head, and he slammed his face into his pillow. It was no secret that all the Avengers knew about his _crush_ , and at this rate it wouldn’t be a secret to MJ either, by the end of the week.

 

_It was eating him alive._

 

-

 

“Welcome to gym class, but _better_.” Clint’s hands sat comfortably on his hips, his bow and arrows on his back. Peter stared at everyone in their gym clothes— he couldn’t wait until the day he didn’t actually have to unwillingly participate in this lesson. College couldn’t come soon enough at this point.

 

Clint stared happily at everyone in turn. “So— you may have heard about the dodgeball fiasco yesterday. And yes, I am the _genius_ behind said plan, thank you very much.” He bowed playfully. No one laughed. “Let me tell you a bit about my life…”

 

Peter could have whined at top volume. Clint made everyone sit down on the blue mats of the sports hall, and started reciting the story of his damn life.

 

“Being an Avenger wasn’t on the cards for me from the beginning. I used to work for SHIELD. I was hired to take down individuals that posed as a threat to civilians. I don’t have superpowers, or a million dollar suit. I didn’t get molecularly changed by gamma radiation or trained in one of the highest rated assassination facilities in the world—

 

“I just like shooting arrows.”

 

Peter found himself chuckling with his class.

 

“The others think they can, somewhat, talk _down_ to me because of this. I don’t take it personally, I mean they’re a great group of people who I’m happy to call my teammates. But— sometimes— they can go too far.”

 

Clint’s eyes hit Peter’s, and the kid swallowed. Was this whole talk for his benefit?

 

“Hence, the dodgeball attack— which they deserved, by the way. Not to mention that when Tony and Bruce are together they’re _literally the most annoying guys in the world.”_

 

Peter was full on laughing now, and it felt good to be able to look at Clint and understand. Peter was the youngest by far— they were just playing with him. Clint knew what that was like, too.

 

“If someone pisses you off, _tell them_. If someone pushes you down, _push them back_. But— in a responsible way, obviously.” Clint’s eyes trailed to Peter’s again. “And if you know you’ve done wrong, be the bigger person and apologise.”

 

MJ turned her head to Peter, a small smile etched on her face. He looked at his feet, but she could still see his face—

 

And he was smiling, too.

 

-

 

“What was _that_ all about?” Peter asked Clint, after most people had left the hall.

 

“I’m sorry, Parker.” Clint placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder, shooting the kid a smile. “We’ve been dicks.”

 

_Was this actually happening?_

 

“Is this some kind of prank? Am I gonna get green goo poured on my head from the rafters and feathers thrown over my gooey body?” Clint chuckled, leading Peter to the sports hall door.

 

“Not this time, at least.” Hawkeye gave Peter a subtle push. “Go have a good day at school, kid.”

 

Peter stumbled out of the gym, his eyes out of focus. What the _hell_ was that?

 

“Peter,” MJ smiled at him sweetly, she’d been waiting for him outside.

 

“Hey—,” he was cut off by MJ’s arms wrapping around his neck. Her face nuzzled into his shoulder, and his own limbs trailed to her back, where they stayed, _rigid_ , as MJ continued to embrace him. Peter hadn’t blinked since MJ had approached him, but his eyes weren’t burning. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears. “MJ— are you OK?” He spluttered out.

 

She nodded, still in the embrace. When they pulled apart, she kept hold of his shoulders.

 

“It’s nice to see you smiling again,”

 

She strolled away then, and Peter blinked, his eyes feeling like they could fall out of his skull. His eyes were plastered on her as she walked around the corner.

 

“She’s a keeper, kid,” Tony pattered Peter’s shoulder, sending g a shock down his spine.

 

“Have you been here the whole time?” He tried to sound angry, but with his beyond smiley face Peter doubted Tony was scared.

 

Peter’s Thursday was going in the weirdest of directions, but he wasn’t complaining. He just had no idea why the Avengers had finally changed their ways, finally realised that they were, well, being dicks to him. Tony _especially_ , if people were pointing fingers.

 

“Sorry— by the way.” Tony added, and Peter stopped breathing. The great Anthony Stark had just apologised to him. _Willingly_. What? “That girl knows things and acts upon them. It’s just a shame that you didn’t feel like you could talk to us about it.”

 

“What do you mean?” Tony scoffed at the kid.

 

“Michelle— MJ—“ Tony coughed. “Your wannabe wife—,”

 

“ _Hey, come on_ —,”

 

“She spoke to Steve yesterday after your history class, said how much you hated having us here. She said she had no clue why you weren’t acting like yourself, but got the feeling we all know each other better than we’re letting on.”

 

Peter looked at the floor.

 

MJ had got all that from three days of scowling?

 

“She doesn’t know about me.” He added, taking in a sharp breath. Tony smacked Peter’s shoulder once more, stuffing his other hand in his blazer pocket.

 

“Something tells me that she wouldn’t be surprised if you eventually told her.” Peter whipped his head towards Tony.

 

“You mean— you think I should _tell her?"_

 

Tony smiled subtly, removing his hand from the kid’s shoulder.

 

“Have a good day, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So- I listened to you guys and your criticism and ideas, and I've fixed a few things. 
> 
> At the end of the day, this fic is supposed to be banter, which It truly is haha. But hey, I like writing emotive stuff, not just funny stuff, or lowkey mean stuff (or angst. a lot of angst). 
> 
> Sorry for the really sporadic upload timings, I'm a mess. But I promise when I down post I am always thinking about the next fic or the next chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy x


	6. Chapter 6

Peter tried his best to act normal for the rest of the day, but wherever he looked, all he saw was MJ. She was there when he looked up in the halls, there when he entered the cafeteria, there even when he went to do some private lab study.

 

“Hey,” She smiled at him sweetly, but he couldn’t help but think it was odd. He knew MJ was nice, she was one of his best friends, but she’d always been snarky, always been a little bit mean. “I can leave, if you want. I know you have that project due—,”

 

“No, no—,” Peter blurted out. It’d come from nowhere. “Stay.”

 

He watched as MJ settled back into her chair, her face staring intently at the notebook on the desk in front of her, and her cheeks gaining colour.

 

Peter sat down opposite her, his pulse far too high for simply sitting down in a chair. Tony’s face popped into his mind— a face that was almost trying to convince the kid to tell MJ about himself. Tony had always been mysterious, but seeing him that morning had been the most confusing encounter yet.

 

“Peter?” MJ chided, and the kid’s head whirled upwards. His eyes were wide as they hit MJ’s, and she furrowed her eyebrows, a small smile on her lips. “You OK?” Had her voice always been that reassuring? Had her smile always been that pretty?

 

Peter nodded quickly, then scoffed at himself. “Yeah— yeah, I’m fine.” He chuckled to himself, tapping his pen on the desk. MJ didn’t go back to her studies, her eyes stayed glued on Peter’s. “MJ,” He began, and her face seemed to glow in that instant.

 

What the hell would he say? _Hey, I’m Spider-Man!_ It almost sounded like she’d think he was faking. He’d never had to straight up tell someone before; Ned caught him; so had Aunt May. This was a whole new ball game.

 

“I wanted to say—,” His eyes peered into hers, and suddenly it was as if he couldn’t breathe. She waited patiently for him to speak, all the while continuing to smile at the boy in front of her, despite his sweaty forehead, and his stammering pulse, and his— well, _dorky_ exterior. Dorky _everything._

 

“I just wanted to say—,” But he couldn’t do it. No matter how much he wanted MJ to know, he just couldn’t. “Thank you— for talking to Steve Rogers.”

 

MJ’s lip curled. “You’re welcome.” She settled back into her studies, keeping her eyes glued to the page in front of her, despite her quivering lip from smiling too widely.

 

Peter chose to copy her, delving deep into his studies as well.

 

At one point, they both looked up at each other.

 

And in that moment, Peter wished there wasn’t a table between them.

 

-

 

Peter and Ned watched as everyone filed into the sports hall. The whole of the senior class had to be here— what the hell did the Avengers have in store next?

 

At the front they all stood like worried parents;

 

Tony, Bruce, Clint, Natasha, Thor and Steve.

 

And despite Peter knowing them all at he compound, it was one hell of a sight to see them all in this atmosphere, dressed in teacher clothes and looking like actual _human_ people. Thor pulled at his tie affectionately— were there even ties on Asgard?

 

“OK everyone!” Tony yelled, and immediately the whole room quieted down. Bruce smiled smugly at his teammate. “You’re probably wondering why the hell you’re here— don’t worry, we’re wondering the same thing.”

 

Natasha coughed loudly, cutting off the billionaire. It was like he’d been shoved back into his theoretical box.

 

“You’re all here for a simple lesson. The school board asked us to do this— don’t ask us why. But here we are, and let’s just get it over with.” She seemed so calm, so cool, compared to the rest of the _men_. “So—

 

“ _Sex._ ”

 

The whole room was void of noise. Peter swallowed, but his mouth was dry. Ned gulped next to him, he’d never seen his friend so pale before. Were the Avengers _really_ about to give to senior class of Midtown a _sexual education lesson_? Was this _really_ happening?

 

“It’s a natural thing, and I wanna bet you cheerleaders and jocks have probably already been through it, am I right?” Natasha laughed at her own judgement, but none of the sports teams moved. The cheerleading squad didn’t even _twitch._

 

“Look—,” Thor came forward, his face a bright ray of sunshine in the storm that was the awkwardness of the other Avengers. “Where I come from, sex is beautiful. You can have it with your husband, your wife, your lover, your troll—,”

 

“ _OK_ ,” Tony cut off the god. “Let’s not get into those _Asgardian details._ ” A few chuckles escaped from the mouths of Midtown, and Peter saw Tony’s face change into something much more comfortable. “I think the school board simply wanted us to remind you that sex can be great fun— and _hell,_ it is,” More laughter. Peter cringed into himself, fully. “But!”

 

The whole room went silent as Tony’s voice boomed.

 

“Consent and safety are two key elements to having that fun.”

 

As if on cue, Clint rolled up a big TV loaded with a VHS.

 

Suddenly, Cap’s face popped up on screen, but he was wearing his old uniform, and stood in front of an American flag background. Peter watched as Steve coiled into himself, placing his head in his hands, his face going exceptionally red.

 

 _“So— your body’s changing. Take it from a guy frozen in ice for 70 years, I know how that feels—,”_ The whole room erupted with laughter so loud that the video was immediately drowned out, but before it could end Steve forcefully shut it off.

 

Peter didn’t know whether to laugh or throw up. This was all too much to bare.

 

“OK, _OK,_ ” Steve calmed down the room, his face still a neon red. “Look— you all know how sex works, you’re not twelve year olds.” The captain crossed his arms seriously, and the room fell completely silent. “Do it _safely_ , and only do it if both parties are completely in agreement. You’re all young— way younger than me— so of course you’re going to experiment. But you _must_ do it carefully.”

 

Widow came forward again, her heels clicking on the ground smartly.

 

“Ladies— and _gents_ — but mostly us girls, because the American education system _sucks ass_ ,” Steve winced. Clint smiled. “Don’t feel like you’re obligated to do anything you’re not comfortable with. That goes for all you guys too. Don’t pressure anyone into doing something they don’t want to do—,”

 

Tony stepped forward. “And _by god_ , don’t get anyone pregnant. The world is already over-populated as it is.”

 

The last ten minutes of Peter’s life flashed before his eyes as he filed out of the sports hall with Ned. He didn’t even want to think about what the hell he’d just had to sit through, _let alone_ even get the sex talk in the first place.

 

Aunt May had never properly given him _the talk,_ and he was thankful for it. She knew he was smart, she knew he wouldn’t make stupid decisions. She also knew he probably wouldn’t be getting laid until college.

 

But having the Avengers talk to his whole year about sex and its consequences— it made everything feel slightly surreal.

 

“I just got the sex talk from Iron-Man,” Ned said bluntly. Peter was ready to fling himself off a bridge. He knew that this time the Avengers didn’t have a choice in what they had to teach, but either way it was way too close for comfort. He also felt bad for Cap and that whole video debacle.

 

MJ came running up to Ned and Peter, a smile stretched wide on her face.

 

“Hear that, losers? Always wear a condom.” Peter scoffed, but that was simply a mechanism to stop him from yelling. MJ ran in front of them then, only looking back to send an over the top wink at Peter.

 

Ned and him stopped by their lockers, still looking at MJ as she walked to her next class with her friends.

 

“I wonder what sex feels like,” Ned said. Peter opened his locker forcefully. “Maybe it’s like masturbating— but _better_?” Peter could have whacked his head against the back of his locker.

 

He grabbed his English book and shut his locker, grabbing Ned’s shoulder with a small smile.

 

“I’m sure it’s a lot better than masturbating, Ned.”

 

The two of them headed for English, and Ned sighed.

 

“I wish I had a girlfriend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry but this chapter was too amazing to pass up writing. 
> 
> That's all I have to say about that...
> 
> Enjoy x


	7. Chapter 7

“They did my job for me,” May chuckled to herself, arranging some strawberries on a cake she’d just baked— it smelled like aubergine. Meanwhile, Peter was still trying to process his entire journey home after that _talk_.

 

He was also secretly savouring that wink MJ had _catapulted_ into his gut.

 

“What’re you smiling about, huh?” May strolled over to her nephew and grabbed his face with one hand, squishing his cheeks together. Peter shrugged her off, but the look on her face told him that she wasn’t finished. “What’s on your mind?” She chided, a smug look on her devious face.

 

May always knew when something was up. It was like she had a sixth sense with Peter, he couldn’t hide anything anymore. Not since she found out he was Spider-Man.

 

“You haven’t met a cute superhero while you’re out patrolling New York, _have you_?” She popped a fresh strawberry in her mouth, holding the green stem in her fingers.

 

“Not— exactly,” Peter said, scratching the back of his neck. May clapped her hands then, throwing the stem of the strawberry to the floor.

 

“I knew you’d get over Liz eventually.” She shoved Peter playfully, a bright smile on her face. “So, _who is it_?”

 

Peter analysed his situation.

 

May knew who MJ was, what with the countless Academic Decathlon after school sessions and the few times Ned and MJ had both hung out at Peter’s place.

 

His heart pounded hard in his chest— he’d never properly said it out loud, never properly admitted to liking MJ so much. Hell, he hadn’t even _said it_ to Tony and he’d caught on immediately. Was he really that easy to read?

 

Peter readied himself for May’s reaction, and swallowed down his anxiety.

 

“Well, it’s—“ his phone rang in his pocket suddenly, sending a jolt down his spine. _Bruce Banner_ was calling him. “Dr Banner?”

 

“Kid!” Bruce shouted down the line, and Peter immediately furrowed his brows in focus. Down the line Peter could head metal grinding on metal, and the unmistakable noise of Steve and Tony arguing. “Look— we need you at Midtown. _ASAP_.”

 

“Bruce—“ but Dr Banner had already hung up. Peter dropped his bag to the floor and hurried to his room, leaving Aunt May with unanswered questions.

 

He slipped on his suit in record time, and opened his window.

“ _Peter!_ ” May yelled, and he looked back at his Aunt. She swallowed, her face red. “Just— be safe, OK?”

 

He nodded, not saying a word, and slipped his mask on, jumping out into the bustling borough of Queens, headed straight for his school.

 

-

 

Peter shimmied through one of the half open windows in Thor’s English class, landing silently on the floor and headed straight for the lab.

 

The metal he heard down the phone— it had to be in there.

 

Peter had no idea what was rushing through his mind as he trekked the familiar halls of his school, headed for the lab. Headed for his teammates; the Avengers; and _whatever_ they were facing.

 

What if it was something _bad_? Something really, _really bad_?

 

“ _Clint! No!_ ” Peter picked up his speed as he jumped down two sets of stairs, Thor’s voice booming into his ears even from the floor above the laboratory. The unmissable sound hit his ears—

 

All of the lab equipment was on full blast.

 

Peter didn’t hesitate bombarding down the lab door and landing right in the midst of the chaos—

 

“ _Guys!_ ”

 

And he immediately slumped—

 

Tony looked at the kid with wide eyes and an upturned smile.

 

Because they were fine. All of them were fine. Tony coughed like a caught school boy.

 

“I accidentally switched on the mains and all the machines turned on,” Peter stayed completely still. “And now _I can’t turn them off_.”

 

Peter tried to get this all straight in his head.

 

So, Bruce Banner had called him and asked him to go to Midtown—

 

_In a way that insinuated something catastrophic was happening._

 

He’d obviously come as Spider-Man because of this, and had felt powerful bashing the lab door down—

 

_Now he just felt stupid._

 

Because Peter Parker was stood in a room of some of the smartest people in the world—

 

_Who couldn’t figure out how to turn off the machines in a high school lab._

 

Without saying a word, Peter strolled over to the controller’s cupboard to the left of the room, and hit the big red button that shut off all the machinery. The whirring stopped— the room fell silent— and all Peter could do was slump onto one of the desks and rip off his mask, staring at the blank board in front of him and trying relentlessly to calm himself down so he didn’t do something rash—

 

Like _punching_ Bruce Banner _in the face_.

 

The Avengers stared at him with guilty faces; all except Tony.

 

“Job well done, kid—,” he slammed his hand down on Peter’s shoulder; and that pushed him over the line.

 

In one swoop, Peter had slammed Tony down onto one of the lab desks, his collar gripped in one hand and his fist raised to the billionaires face.

 

“ _You_ called me here, in that _way_ , in a way that _scared me into oblivion_ — to _shut off the machines?_ ” Tony’s eyes hadn’t blinked since he’d been smashed downwards; he stared at the kid in a mixture of shock and admiration, and behind all that;

 

Perhaps guilt.

 

Natasha came forward then, pulling Peter off of Stark.

 

“Relax, Webhead. Bruce called because it was _necessary._ ” Peter was about to explode. He clenched his jaw.

 

“ _Necessary how_?”

 

Natasha sighed at the kid.

 

“Thor got his tie stuck in the sanding machine.” She pointed behind her at a tussled Thor, his tie was half ripped off and still around his neck. Thor smiled at Peter awkwardly, sending him an unenthusiastic wave.

 

Peter didn’t smile back.

 

Because he could no longer feel his body.

 

“ _Thor_ —” Peter bellowed, physically needing to support himself on one of the desks. “ _Is a fucking God!_ ”

 

“Hey— _man_ ,” Clint came forward, showing off his now red and raw hand. “If I hadn’t got him outta there his pretty boy Asgard face would have been _toast_. So, _back off—_ ”

 

Peter squealed as he tried to string together his words.

 

“He could have _taken the tie off!_ Why do you even _feel the need_ to wear a _goddamn tie everyday!_ ”

 

Thor frowned, slowly removing the tie from around his neck and stuffing it in his jacket pocket.

 

“Someone’s being a bit over-dramatic, don’t you think?” Tony chimed in.

 

They were all children— _all of them_. Peter physically didn’t have the brain capacity to be around all of them in the same room, let alone at his high school lab.He wanted so badly to yell _“Me being over-dramatic?”_ But he knew it would be wasted on them all and their supposed near-death experience with Thor.

 

All Peter needed was to get home to reassure Aunt May.

 

“I—,” he scoffed, fiddling with his mask. “I’m going _home_.”

 

None of the Avengers replied. Instead, their eyes looked afraid. But not for themselves—

 

For the unmasked boy in front of them.

 

“Guys?” Peter muttered, catching on to all their expressions.

 

He turned around then, and the breath got hitched in the back of his throat.

 

Because she was just standing there, her eyes looking him up and down and then landing upon his eyes, her own welling up suddenly—

 

_MJ._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOO it's all going down now.
> 
> PS: I love Kai, thanks for coming to my TED talk.


	8. Chapter 8

Peter couldn’t breathe as his eyes met hers. It was as if the whole room was in shock.

 

He immediately thought MJ would leave. But she _didn’t_ ; she just stood there on the spot; her eyes still welling slightly; her face frozen.

 

This was the first time Peter had _ever_ wished for Tony to start talking— to start going on about something else, to clear the tension, get rid of the anxiety that was eating Peter alive.

 

But Tony didn’t speak. He didn’t _move_. No one did.

 

Peter had to do it.

 

“ _MJ_ —,” He began, his voice so shaky you could hardly recognise it. But he was interrupted—

 

By MJ letting out a _colossal sneeze_. Her head whipped forward, her hand coming up to cover her face, and when she looked up again, she was _crying._

 

She wiped her tears away, half chuckling, half sniffing—

 

“ _Sorry_ — allergy season.” She said nonchalantly. And then she transformed back into her normal self, as if nothing had happened. “What the _hell_ is going on here? I could hear it all the way from the library,” she chuckled, her eyes hitting Peter’s again.

 

She came forward then, and leaned against one of the lab desks, folding her arms.

 

_No one uttered a word._

 

“What?” She chided, bringing her hands to cover her nose. “God— _don’t_ tell me I have snot all over my face,” she turned to Peter then, rushing forward towards him. “Do I have boogers everywhere?”

 

All Peter could do was shake his head, gobsmacked.

 

“ _What?_ ” MJ repeated, whining slightly. “Have you guys all gone mute or something?”

 

Peter turned to Tony with a pleading look on his face. His eyes were asking him if this was _actually_ happening— that MJ had finally found out he was Spider-Man and _wasn’t phased at all._

 

“OK, then...” MJ scoffed at everyone, then turned on her heels, headed for the lab door, but flicked her eyes onto Peter’s once more. “ _Nice suit_.” She muttered, and smiled at the boy in front of her once more; then left without a word.

 

That was it; _Peter was going to throw up._

 

“Well—,” Tony approached the kid, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Now she knows.”

 

“ _Now_ she knows?” Clint added, laughing loudly. “That girl right there has known for a while and you can’t tell me otherwise.”

 

“But _how_ could she know?” Peter stuttered out, his heart in his throat.

 

“Intuition.” Steve spoke with a small smile on his face. “I wanna bet she’s known ever since Spider-Man made an appearance in the cafeteria on Monday.”

 

Peter could have smacked himself there and then. He’d _caught her eye_ — _he’d looked right at her and Ned._

 

“She hasn’t approached me about it at all.”

 

“Well, _why_ would she? She doesn’t seem like the kind of person to pry, Peter.”

 

“I just—,” Peter stood up straight then, trying to regain his breath. “Don’t understand why she wouldn’t talk to me about it.”

 

Tony squeezed the kid’s shoulder. “Because _you never told her_ in the first place, kid. That’s why.” MJ— she’d known and not told him she knew, simply because it wasn’t her place to say.

 

Simply because she wanted to make sure it was Peter’s decision when he eventually told her.

 

“I’ve said it before, kid. _She’s a keeper._ ”

 

-

 

It was only after thinking about Tony’s words that made Peter shove his mask back on and bound out of the lab, headed for the library. He wished; he prayed; that MJ was still there. He’d been in the wrong for not telling her after Ned found out— doubly in the wrong after May had caught him.

 

All the secrets; the lies; that MJ had had to sit through this week, fully having that burning feeling deep in her gut that her own best friend was Spider-Man; fully having that burning feeling that _everyone_ around her was lying right to her face.

 

Peter needed to change all of it.

 

He _would_ change all of it—

 

Because now she truly knew, and she hadn’t freaked out; she hadn’t erupted; she hadn’t even been _surprised_.

 

It was all going to be fine—

 

_Everything would be fine._

 

And then Peter turned the corner to the library, and MJ was stood in the hallway; bawling.

 

It was like his feet had stopped working, and his limbs all jolted. Seeing her crying, the tears dripping down her face like she’d just had a door slammed in her face; he couldn’t stand the fact that he was the cause.

 

Her head whipped around when she spotted him, and her frantic rushing to cover up her tears just made Peter feel even shitter about what he’d done. He ran up to her then, his mask still donned, and placed his hands on each side of her face.

 

“I’m fine— _I’m fine_ —,” MJ muttered, trying not to make a fuss of herself.

 

Peter’s eyes welled beneath his mask, but he was too shaky to even try and take it off. MJ stared at him; the real him; she stared right through his mask, straight into his eyes.

 

With steady hands, MJ pulled off the mask, and Peter’s eyes overflowed. His jaw was clenched, his hair tussled, covering his face; because he was staring into the face of the girl he’d liked ever since he’d met her, but loved for the past year.

 

And he’d made her cry.

 

“I’m _so sorry_ —,”

 

“Shut up, Peter—,”

 

“I’m such a shit, I’m _such a shit_ —,”

 

“ _Shut up, Peter._ ”

 

And he did, because MJ’s voice was so full of warmth that it made the breath hitch in his throat. He swallowed, and gazed straight at her, not wanting to hide anything anymore. Though it was virtually impossible to hide anything from MJ, anyway, after this discovery of her intuition.

 

Peter wouldn’t be surprised if she’d known all along about him being Spider-Man.

 

He wouldn’t be surprised if she knew that he loved her.

 

And these thoughts didn’t scare him anymore; they washed over him with reassurance.

 

“I’m Spider-Man.” He said, without his voice wavering. MJ scoffed, bringing up her hands to his face, mimicking his own, the mask dangling from her right hand. She looked up at him, a smug smile on her face.

 

“No shit.”

 

A chuckle rippled through Peter’s body like it was the first time he’d ever laughed.

 

“You knew?” He asked, removing his hands from her face and snaking one around her waist. The other trailed up to her right hand; he clutched it in his own, along with his mask.

 

“Since the end of Sophomore year.” Mj chuckled to herself, but Peter could tell she was pained by it. “You never were good at lying. _Never_.” She’d known for three years— _Three whole years._

 

Peter had been lying to her for three years. And she’d known about his lying from the very beginning.

 

“ _Fuck_ — MJ—,”

 

“ _Shut up_ , Parker.” She trailed her thumb along his cheek, picking up his settled tears. “It’s your identity to reveal, not mine. None of this is your fault.” Her squeezed her wrist tighter, and pulled her closer to him. She shuffled her body closer to his; they were practically nose to nose. “You were so unhappy then, I just put two and two together. The absence of Spider-Man and the absence of your happiness.”

 

“God,” Peter muttered. “Let’s not talk about fifteen year old me.”

 

“I like fifteen year old you.” MJ traced her fingers over the collar of his suit. “But I prefer seventeen year old you.”

 

“‘Cause I’m finally taller than you?” Peter joked, sending MJ a playful smile.

 

“‘Cause I don’t have to listen to your squeaky voice all the time.” Peter’s face immediately turned a neon red, and laughter was shared between the both of them

 

“I don’t need another lecture on how _’Our Bodies Change’,_ OK?”

 

“OK,” MJ whispered, and then time stopped. Or, more truthfully, Peter started sweating profusely.

 

Because MJ’s eyes were darting from his eyes to his lips, and he had no idea how to cope with this kind of predicament. This means that she wants to kiss, right? _Right?_ To no surprise, this was the closest Peter had ever been to a girl, let alone a girl he _liked. A lot._

 

He was suddenly all too aware that he was dressed in his suit, standing in the corridor of his high school, with the Avengers within a half a mile radius. He was suddenly all too aware of the small freckles that were sprinkled across MJ’s nose, and the beauty spot that sat right in the middle of her lower lip.

 

He watched as her cheeks gained colour then, and she rubbed her lips together.

 

_Why did girls have to do that? That ‘rubbing your lips together’ thing? Jesus._

 

And he could have sworn he saw her budge even closer to him, but he’d gone as rigid as a board. He didn’t want to mess this up; he _couldn’t_ mess this up; this was all he’d thought about for the past year whenever MJ crossed his path.

 

And as soon as she’d got so close; she was backing away.

 

“I’m gonna be late for work.” MJ smiled as she placed the mask back in his hand, and removed her own from his face. She grabbed her bag from the floor and slung it over her shoulder, looking back once again at Peter, her eyes practically wishing she didn’t have to leave—

 

And then she was gone.

 

Peter let out a deep breath that he didn’t realise he’d been holding, and slumped back against a locker, practically glowing from what he’d just been through—

 

_That’s when Clint fell from the ceiling._

 

Hawkeye crashed to the ground along with several of the ceiling tiles. Peter’s eyes met the archer’s, but he didn’t have the capacity to even ask why Clint had just fallen from one of the air vents. Peter was on cloud nine, even despite not kissing her. He was soaking up the sun that _radiated_ from her very body.

 

Clint’s body clicked as he got up from the floor, shoving each of the ceiling tiles under his arms.

 

Peter raised an eyebrow at him then, his arms crossed, still slumped against the lockers. Clint was covered in installation dust, his face covered in a small layer of grey. “Good job, kid.” He muttered, and then walked off, as if nothing had happened; as if he hadn’t just fallen from the air duct he’d been _spying_ from.

 

The kid shoved his mask back on, feeling on top of the world. “I know you’re there,” He yelled behind him. Caught red handed, the Avengers popped out from behind the row of lockers suddenly.

 

They all looked at each other, stunned, as if they hadn’t known they’d all been spying on Peter and MJ. Their guilty faces made Peter chuckle to himself. Nothing could put him in a bad mood right now—

 

Nothing.

 

“And _I’m_ supposed to be the kid.” He muttered to himself, before leaving the building, his face beaming below his mask.

 

And as the bustling city of New York flew by as he swung from building to building, Peter’s mind settled upon something—

 

_Next time, he’d do it._

 

_Next time, he’d kiss her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been listening to this song on repeat for days and it literally puts me in the greatest writing mood ever. So here we are-
> 
> MJ and Peter are honestly one of my favourite ships ever, which you can probably tell by now lmao. 
> 
> Just to say, I may not update this baby for a little while, since I'm seeing Infinity War at midnight on the 26th April, and will probably not have the capacity to write about anything happy for a while. So I'm sorry if the next upload is so far away. 
> 
> Enjoy x


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

“Peter, you’re like,” Ned spoke, awestruck. “Almost a man now.” 

 

 

Peter sent a quizzical look at his friend. 

 

“I _am_ a man.” 

 

“Yeah, but, now it’s _official_. Now you’re like— a _man_ man.” 

 

The first person Peter had called about MJ had obviously been Ned, his best friend since he’d first started at Midtown. 

 

“I like don’t know if I should be offended or not.” The two of them slalomed down the corridor, headed for their last day of Avengers workshops. “And besides, I haven’t actually, you know, _kissed_ her yet.” 

 

Ned placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “But you will soon, my friend. You will _soon_.” 

 

Peter couldn’t help but smile. He’d spent the entirety of last night buzzing, the adrenaline coursing through his body in that teenage way. 

 

Not just because he’d almost kissed her—

 

But because he’d _finally told her_. 

 

Even walking around the halls he felt this new kind of confidence, this new kind of happiness. His anxiety had practically _melted_ away— 

 

And then he caught _her_ eye. 

 

_And his heart plummeted into his stomach._

 

Because MJ was walking right towards him, with the biggest, beaming smile plastered on her face, her cheeks slightly flushed— 

 

And he just _couldn’t._

 

All of a sudden he was sweating again, his eyes darting around to different places in the corridor just so he didn’t have to meet her eyes. 

 

Was it possible that she hadn’t noticed him? Not in the _fucking slightest_ — 

 

“MJ,” Ned spoke cheerfully, flicking his eyes up to his now anxiety ridden friend. “ _How you doin’?_ ” Ned added on some finger guns just for good measure.

 

MJ scoffed. “I’m doing fine, _Joey Tribbiani_.” Peter stopped abruptly, his feet now glued to the spot. MJ placed her hair behind her ear, looking up at Peter’s face. “Hey, dork.” 

 

Now Peter was _struggling to breathe_. Because instead of her same old, sarcastic voice— she’d said it _sweetly_ , she’d said it _affectionately_. 

 

His brain was working overtime just to try and get a word out, a simple ‘Hi’, or something along those lines. But all that came out was an uncomfortable stutter— 

 

“Bathroom.” He grinned awkwardly at her, before turning on his heels and fast walking it to the boys room, MJ’s stare making his neck hairs stand on end. 

 

He leant on the closet sink to the door, breathing harder than he should have been. This _girl stuff_ — _it was fucking hard_. 

 

“Ah,” Steve Rogers appeared suddenly from a bathroom stall. “That’s the face of a deer in headlights.” Cap washed his hands and dried them off with a paper towel; all the while Peter stayed hunched over the sink. 

 

“Look, kid,” Steve smacked Peter’s shoulder, sending a jolt down his spine. “I _know_ how it feels.” Peter stared at Steve like he was insane. Captain _freaking_ America— a deer in headlights around women? No fucking way. 

 

“Before the serum I was— a mess. Especially around women.” Peter prayed that this conversation would end abruptly, but Cap continued. “After the serum, well— _looks wise_ I guess I improved.” 

 

“ _Improved_? That’s an understatement.” Peter muttered. Steve smiled awkwardly. 

 

“Being in the limelight, being Captain America, it opened a lot of doors for me in terms of _female interaction_. And I had to teach myself how to deal with it, you know?” 

 

“How’s that coming along for you?” Peter asked. Cap’s face went _blank_. 

 

“ _Look_ , all I’m saying is— she _likes_ you, she kinda made the first move. And now she wants you to reciprocate. You have nothing to fear, kid.” 

 

“ _Nothing to fear_?” Peter’s voice squeaked, and he shoved Cap’s hand off his shoulder, turning to face the soldier face on. “You’re _joking_ right? I have _everything_ to fear. What if I _fuck_ up? What if I’m a _shit_ kisser? Or if I step on her foot while it’s happening? What the _fuck_ do I do if—,” 

 

Without warning, Cap grabbed Peter's face with both hands and stared directly at the kid, his eyebrows furrowed.

 

"You're _strong_. You've _got this_ , Peter. You're _the man_."

 

Peter tried to show his utter surprise, but Cap was _squishing_ his face to the point of no return.

 

"If _I_ can kiss _Peggy Carter_ then _you_ can kiss _Michelle Jones_ , _you hear me?_ "

 

Peter would have been smiling, if his face hadn't become the filling in Steve's hand sandwich.

 

Because Steve was right— of course he was.

 

This wasn't some challenge that Peter had to pass, this was because him and MJ liked each other—

 

Steve smiled at the kid innocently, as if he hadn't almost broken Peter's face by accident. "Well, see you in History!"

 

Just like that, Steve left the bathroom without a word, leaving Peter to ponder more on what the hell had just happened here. But the only circulating through Peter's mind, despite Cap's words of wisdom about MJ—

 

_Had Captain America really just given Peter girl advice?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am here! I’ve returned with good tidings and fluff. This fic is gonna be the fluffiest shit no matter what, cause I’m already expelling all my angst with my Metal and Dust fic. Infinity War killed me BUT IM STILL HERE. SEE THIS. WE’RE ALL SURVIVORS. Unlike Loki— OK!! So let’s continue on and forget that I said that and am a bitch.
> 
> Who am I kidding we’re never forgetting that I’m a bitch. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this mega bro fluff.


	10. Chapter 10

“Kid,” Natasha said, and all of sudden Peter was pulled back into reality. She had an apologetic look on her face, and now that her eyes were scanning Peter’s face it was like she was ready to get on one knee and comfort him. “I’m sorry about Steve— honestly, he _means_ well—,”

 

"It's OK," Peter let out, still shaken from the fact Cap had given him the worlds weirdest pep talk just an hour before.

 

But then again—

 

Peter’s anxiety hadn’t spiked since. Even when he’d passed Bruce Banner’s homeroom class, and caught a glimpse of MJ inside, making notes.

 

So no, the kid wasn’t mad. In fact—

 

He felt at _ease_. Even though Natasha Romanoff’s face was so close to his she could _bite him._

 

“It’s _really_ OK.” He spoke louder, and met Nat’s eyes. She shot him back a smile. "He made a surprisingly good point." Despite Cap's words actually helping, Peter still knew for certain— 

 

The Avengers were _weird._

 

But as much as Peter wanted to say this week had been shit— he just couldn’t. The first three days and his shitty attitude had ruined most of this week, but honestly, having the Avengers around had been—

 

_Warming._

 

They were his teammates, his family; and family made fun of each other, they played pranks, they teased. Peter hadn’t seen it that way because of the mood he’d chosen to feel. A mood that hadn’t just effected himself, but also his friends—

 

Including MJ. Who literally had to talk to Steve to get the Avengers to _back off._

 

Peter sighed, slumping down into his desk. Ned tapped his friends shoulder, sending him a beaming smile. “Last day, huh?” Peter couldn’t help but smile back, even a little bit.

 

“Last day.”

 

“Did it feel like seven years?” Ned asked. Peter stared at the front of the room, watching Natasha as she rewrote her name in Russian on the board. She flicked her eyes onto his for a second, sending him a warm smile. It made his heart jolt.

 

“No,” Peter began, rising up slightly in his chair. “It only felt like seven hours.” He turned to Ned, who’s eyebrows were raised to the top of his forehead. “I wish they were _staying,_ to be honest.”

 

“ _Jesus_ …” Ned took in his words for a minute or so. “It’s like MJ _infected_ you with happiness or something.”

 

Peter scoffed, nodding to himself. “Yeah. Something like that.”

 

-

 

In a month, Peter would graduate high school.

 

In a month, Peter would no longer be a high school student.

 

And in just less than a month—

 

He’d be eighteen. He’d be a legal adult. And, in the words of Tony to Bruce, as Peter once eavesdropped in the compound about three months back—

 

_He’d be an official Avenger._

 

Peter couldn’t deny that the thought excited him, it filled him with the best feeling; one that almost beat how he felt around MJ. To be an _official Avenger,_ to have Spider-Man up with the likes of Iron-Man, Captain America and the others. It was almost _too good_ to be true, in Peter’s mind.

 

And still, after all the years of sneaking around, hiding in plain sight, covering up his identity—

 

Those closest to him _knew._

 

But was that _enough?_ When eventually, the whole world would see him as an actual Avenger— when it was the government’s responsibility to have a _lock_ on Peter’s true identity—

 

_Everyone would soon know how he truly was._

 

He gulped down his anxiety, because if this was what Peter really wanted, what he really craved, then he’d have to put up with it. He’d have to _tell the world_ —

 

_He’d have to tell everyone._

 

And for _fucks sake_ —

 

_He was going to tell them all his own way._

 

Thaddeus Ross wasn’t getting that job, not when he doesn’t know the first thing about how it would feel to the kid himself.

 

“Peter?” MJ approached him from behind as he stood at his locker, snaking her arms around his waist. He wasn’t caught off guard, not for one second. The breath didn’t hitch in his throat, his heart didn’t accelerate in speed.

 

Because he _wasn’t scared anymore_ —

 

_He wasn’t._

 

“You coming to the lecture? It’s the Avengers final workshop.” She smiled at him, and he didn’t ignore the fact that her eyes were flicking between his eyes and lips hopefully once more. He smiled back at her, clutching her own waist.

 

And without replying, without hesitating, without _stopping_ or _stalling_ or being _afraid_ —

 

Peter planted his lips on hers. His eyes were clamped shut, and his hands had a hold on her like she was the most precious thing he’d ever had. MJ brought her hand to the back of Peter’s neck, and he reciprocated.

 

Steve was right—

 

This was so much better than something so spontaneous. This was so much better than kissing a random person, than kissing someone you didn’t care about like this.

 

MJ began chuckling, her lips still pressed against Peter’s. He couldn’t hold back his giggles after that, and the two of them parted; but barely. Peter’s forehead rested on MJ’s, and the two of them were so close; so comfortable; so _in_ each others arms that Peter almost felt like he needed to pinch himself.

 

MJ looked up at him, her face flushed. And Peter finally spoke.

 

“I’ll be there. But, I have something I need to do first.” He planted a quick peck on her lips once more, and MJ practically squealed, tumbling backwards slightly. Peter held her upright, before winking at her playfully.

 

MJ _swooned_ ; she literally _swooned._

 

That’s when he ran off, headed for the lab. All the while, MJ stared at his back, her eyes wide with shock, her face flushed a neon red, hugging her own arms.

 

“ _Dork,_ ” She scoffed to herself, shaking her head lightly. She turned on her heels then, headed for the gymnasium.

 

Headed for the Avengers last official talk at Midtown School of Science and Technology.

 

-

 

“Where’s Peter?” Ned chided, just as MJ sat down with the rest of the senior year in the gym.

MJ had this feeling inside of her; nothing bad; no alarm bells were ringing— but she knew Peter was about to do something. The way he’d acted, his fearlessness;

 

He’d come to peace with something that once used to hold him back.

 

“Only Peter knows where he is,” MJ spoke, sending Ned a smile. He sent a raised eyebrow back at her, which mad her chuckle. She smacked his shoulder affectionately. “Don’t worry. He knows what he’s doing,”

 

MJ looked down at the Avengers as they prepped themselves for their lecture, and without warning, Tony caught her eye.

 

He looked up at her as she sat on the stalls with the rest of the senior class, and then he _smiled_ at her. His eyes lit up like he was genuinely happy; like he was _proud_ of her; _proud of Peter._

 

Before this week, Tony Stark had simply been another rich white boy to MJ, someone who abused his power, someone arrogant, living in his high tower and looking down at the world. It wasn’t pretty how she’d used to think, and the shame had crept through her the first time she’d had a proper conversation with him on Monday.

 

The guilt had almost eaten her up when he’d practically offered her a job at Stark Industries in that joint lesson.

 

But then he eyes had met Peter’s—

 

And that guilt had disappeared.

 

“Alright! Quiet down now, _children_ ,” Tony smirked at everyone, putting on his ‘Dad’ voice. “Time has caught up with us all, unfortunately.” Steve stepped forward, his arms crossed.

 

“These five days have been— an _experience_. For all of us.” Natasha placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

 

“So, as a thank you, it’s _your turn_ to take the floor.” Her face suddenly turned very serious, the whole gym was silent. “We’re giving you the opportunity to ask us some questions. It’s the least you deserve.”

 

Berlin. The Accords. That’s what they were talking about. Since this was the Avengers first official time all together again since their fight, they hadn’t disclosed anything about the situation to the public yet. The guilt that was etched across all of their faces frightened MJ—

 

But she knew they simply wanted to make it _clear._

 

_They’d made up._

 

“We’ve got a raffle of all of your names here. We’ll pick one out at random, and that student can ask one of us a question.” Bruce was shuffling the student names inside a bowl, picking one up with his eyes shut.

 

“Gwen Stacy,” Bruce read out, and a blonde girl stood up.

 

“Natasha,” she spoke, her voice slightly shaking. “Um, I just wanted to know— why did you stop the panther guy from getting to Mr Rogers and Mr Barnes?” Gwen sat down once more.

 

Natasha smiled, standing up straight.

 

“It’s much more difficult fighting for what’s right when you have _the government_ on your back. I fought for Stark, firstly—,” she stopped, swallowing harshly. “Because I know firsthand what can happen when you go against the state. I stopped T’Challa because it was pointless, in the end. I guess— I wasn’t afraid of the men in charge anymore. I just wanted my teammates—,” She paused once more. “ _Friends_ —to be safe.”

 

Bruce approached Clint, and the archer picked out another name.

 

A boy stood up at the front, and aimed a question at Cap about how it’s like not to have aged in seventy years. “Well, it has it’s perks.” The gym erupted into giggles. And then Cap’s eyes wavered. “But— it was also the most difficult adjustment I’ve ever had to go through.” Steve turned to Tony, flashing him a smile. “I’m adjusted now, though.”

 

MJ’s mind wandered, then, to Peter.

 

Because _where was he_? _Where was he right now_? His mood, his attitude, his _anxiety_ had faded. Why did it scare MJ so much? “MJ?” Ned whispered. She whipped her face towards him. “What’s going on?”

 

“ _I think Peter’s going to tell the school that he’s Spider-Man._ ”

 

“ _What?_ ” Ned yelled, and everyone stopped. Tony raised an eyebrow at him. Ned was practically shaking at the number of eyes that laid on him. “Sorry,” He spluttered out, and the room went back to normal.

 

But not MJ. Not Ned.

 

“We need to _stop him_ —,”

 

“No.” MJ cut him off, and the next time she turned to him she was smiling. “We don’t.” Ned squinted at her, trying to figure out what she meant. She scoffed at herself, her smile taking up most of her face.

 

“Michelle Jones,” Thor read out, holding one of the raffled names. MJ stood up without hesitating, and she knew that this was right, she knew that this was what Peter wanted;

 

She knew it was right. _He’d got over it_ —

 

He didn’t want the Avengers walking on eggshells to hide his identity anymore.

 

He was ready.

 

“Tony,” MJ spoke. Tony’s face dropped suddenly, and his eyes were searching hers trying to find out what she was playing at, what she was going to ask. She took in a sharp breath. _“Who’s Spider-Man?”_

 

Before he could answer, Spider-Man swung into the gymnasium, catapulting himself to the front of the Avengers. The class erupted into yells. People jumped up and down on the spot—

 

MJ kept her eyes on Tony.

 

“Who’s _Spider-Man_ , huh?” Peter repeated, looking straight at MJ. “That’s an _excellent question_.” He winked at her once more, and while everyone else chuckled, she was _beaming._

 

He was doing it.

 

And she was _beyond_ proud.

 

Peter turned to Tony— he looked more than distraught.

 

“Kid—,” He whispered, but Peter cut him off.

 

“Don’t. I _want_ to do this.” Tony stared at him with something Peter had never seen up close—

 

_Relief._

 

Because Tony wanted him to be an official Avenger, one of the team, even more so than he already was. But he couldn’t be that if the world didn’t know who he was.

 

And now— they would.

 

“In a month or so, I’ll become an _official_ Avenger. One of the team, truly.” Peter spoke, staring at his classmates faces. “To do that, I need to tell the world who I really am. _Government stuff_ , and all that.”

 

It dawned on Peter then— _that he’d never felt more like himself than in this moment._

 

“Do you know how many people know who I really am at this moment in time?” Peter counted on his fingers. “ _Nine._ ” The gym filled with subtle whispers. The Avengers, Aunt May, Ned and MJ. That was it.

 

The Avengers hadn’t moved since the kid had swung in. And MJ wished that she could take a photo of all of their faces as Peter spilled his soul out in front of them.

 

Because they were all looking at him like his goddamn parents at his middle school graduation.

 

“I’m over hiding it.” Peter caught eyes with MJ once more. “Someone special showed me that being honest is the first step to helping people.” He turned to Tony then, smiling wide under his mask. “I _will_ be an official Avenger.”

 

“Kid—,” Tony smacked his shoulder. _“You already are one.”_

 

The kid didn’t stop beaming, even as time slowed down inside his head and everything went silent.

 

Even as he pulled off his mask in front of everyone.

 

And the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes afterwards—

 

MJ was crying. She was crying because he’d done it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another story comes to an end. I love my Soft Son who overcame his anxiety. 
> 
> Until next time, then.


	11. Epilogue

And the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes afterwards—

 

MJ was crying. She was crying because he’d done it.

 

He kept his eyes plastered on her, even when the faces of his classmates were peering into his very soul, even when they started shouting his name across the gymnasium, even when all of Peter’s teachers looked like they might _faint_ —

 

He kept his eyes right on her.

 

She smiled underneath the colossal wave of tears that covered her face, mouthing “ _I’m proud of you._ ” And she was proud—

 

She was the most proud she’d _ever_ been. Because Peter hadn’t just tackled his identity crisis with Spider-Man today, he’d also tackled his _kiss_ with her, his problem with expressing his _feelings._

 

“You _did it_ , kid.” Tony came up behind Peter, smacking him on the shoulder once more, and sending a wave to all of the students who were already snapping pictures and videos of Spider-Man’s reveal.

 

It wouldn’t be long before Peter’s face was plastered all over Twitter, Facebook, Instagram— even _Reddit_. _And no one fucking uses Reddit_. But the one thing that was scaring him right now, the one thing that was making him want to _crawl_ into his locker—

 

Was the fact that he _wasn’t scared_ about this.

 

He wasn’t afraid of the public knowing who he was. _Not anymore._

 

“I _am_ Spider-Man,” He let out, and Tony sent him a confused look, before he focused on the kid’s smile. “ _I am._ ” The acceptance was well and truly set in. The distance that Peter used to feel before whenever he put on the suit, the distance between himself and the hero that people saw—

 

_It was gone._

 

They were merged into one.

 

Betty Brant rushed down from the stands, her face flustered beyond belief, her eyes tracing over Peter’s face like she was seeing him again for the first time in fifty years. “The elevator— at the Washington Monument?” Peter shot her an embarrassed smile, nodding his head a little.

 

And then arms were tugging around his neck, a shaking body reverberating off of his own. Betty’s _tears_ even looked intelligent, and when she pulled apart from him she was smiling—

 

She was smiling so wide. “You _saved_ my best friends. _Thank you_ ,”

 

“You’re welcome,” He croaked out, clearing his throat. Betty retreated back to her friend group, their giggles and excitement still filling the air. Teachers were trying to calm down the students, making sure they didn’t leave the gymnasium just yet, but everyone was adamant to go— to _leave_ —

 

To tell the world in anyway they could that their _classmate_ was actually _Spider-Man._

 

The scene was almost becoming dreamlike the more Peter watched. And the only thing that kept him coming back to himself—

 

 _MJ and Ned_ , both of their faces drenched in tears, their lips upturned in massive, proud smiles for their friend.

 

Ned pointed at Peter, puffing out his chest. “That’s my _best friend_!” He yelled, putting on a tough face. “My _goddamn best friend_ , right there. _I love you_ , man,”

 

Peter sent Ned a small wave.

 

“Peter,” Tony spoke quietly behind him, his face suddenly low and stern. “I just got a call from Thaddeus Ross. He wants to meet you.”

 

-

 

Peter didn’t want to think about the task the teachers had on their hands, what with having to get everyone back to normal lessons for the next few hours. All the while, Peter was with his team, with the Avengers, on their way back to the compound.

 

He hadn’t had time to say goodbye to Ned, or MJ— despite how much he’d pleaded with Steve.

 

“You don’t leave the _Secretary of State_ waiting, kid.”

 

He’d be lying if he said that, now, he wasn’t _bricking_ it. Thaddeus Ross was a different level to his senior year classmates altogether. He was a high up member of the US Government, he had the power and authority to halt the Avengers from ever going on another mission; and had almost succeeded in the past.

 

Despite training and often times going on missions with them, the Avengers had never formally introduced Spider-Man to Ross, nor Peter for that matter.

 

And now, Thaddeus would meet them _both_ in the _same sitting._

 

Because they were one— _finally_ — in Peter’s own eyes.

 

Tony brisk walked into the compound, the kid close on his tail. “Mr. Stark— should I be wearing like, _a suit_ or something—,”

 

“You’re already wearing a suit, kid. Put the mask on,” Tony tossed Peter’s mask into his chest. He’d never seen Stark be this anxious in his entire life. This was what Ross’s presence did to people; even the likes of Tony freaking Stark; the bravest man Peter had ever known.

 

Peter shoved on his mask, firing up Karen’s AI display. “Hello, Peter. How has your day been?”

 

“Hey, Karen. I— _can’t_ really talk right now,” Tony turned to look at the kid, his eyebrows raised. “There’s some— serious stuff going on.” Tony rolled his eyes, turning back to his front, still pacing it to the conference room of the Avengers HQ.

 

“How interesting,” Karen said, but Peter didn’t have time to reply.

 

Because that’s when Tony opened up the conference room doors, and inside, at the end of the table, stood _the_ Thaddeus Ross, his hands gripped on the top of chair, his knuckles white.

 

“You can go, Stark—,” Tony’s face dropped, suddenly clouding with concern.

 

“ _Ross_ —,”

 

“ _Go._ ” Tony did as he was told; it was the first time Peter had ever seen him obey orders that weren’t his own. He gulped, just as the door to the conference room closed once more.

 

Then it was just them. Alone.

 

“Uh— _hey,_ ” Peter began, thankful that his mask was covering his face, now covered in sweat, his cheeks a neon red. “I’m—,”

 

“I know who you are, Peter Parker.” Peter’s heart stopped beating, his arms numbly trailing to his mask and slipping it off his face. Thaddeus stared him down, his eyes tracing the entirety of the kid. Peter knew he was going to be judged from the beginning, but this was—

 

_So much worse._

 

“And you’re how old?”

 

“Seventeen, Sir.”

 

“And your birthday is when?”

 

“In twenty seven days, Sir.”It was like a cage match, except the two of them were in a mutual agreement; that Ross was the real _boss_ here; he was the one to watch, to listen to; to _obey_. So, Peter did as he was told, as best as he could, as fast as he could, all the while trying to keep his posture straight, his face calm, his heart _inside_ his body instead of _throwing it up._

 

Thaddeus’ stern face continued to look at Peter like a piece of meat in a butchers, and Peter kept as still as was possible—

 

Until Ross’s face softened.

 

“The case of Adrian Toomes. That was all _you_ , wasn’t it?” Peter swallowed, his brain trying to figure out how the hell to reply to that. I mean— it wasn’t _just_ him, right? Or— _was it?_

 

“I—,”

 

“Stark’s plane, capturing Toomes himself, that was all you.” Thaddeus approached the kid, and Peter didn’t want to admit to himself that the guy’s moustache lowkey freaked him out, even though _it did_. Peter cleared his throat, shooting his eyes to the ground.

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

Peter was adamant that he was going to get in trouble for this. Going behind Stark’s back, crashing the plane, breaking that Staten Island ferry in two— he could have injured hundreds of people; _killed them._

 

Peter was shaken from his thoughts by Thaddeus’ hand dropping on his shoulder, and when the kid looked up—

 

Ross was smiling.

 

“Intuition. Strength. Those are essential qualities to being one of these— _bafoons_.”

 

“ _Bafoons?_ ” Peter stuttered out, offended. “With all due respect, Sir. The Avengers aren’t bafoons.” Thaddeus raised one of his eyebrows, his eyes not leaving the kids. “They’ve saved countless people, they’ve saved the world, the _universe,_ multiple times. It’s true that people still get hurt, Sir. But without them, those hurt people would be nothing more than dust.” Peter felt the bravery course through his bones, and he couldn’t stop. “To even be associated with them was something I never thought would happen, and when I overheard Stark and Banner talking about how I’d have to announce my identity to the world soon, I _panicked_.”

 

Ross listened intently to Peter, his hands still firmly grasping the kid’s shoulder.

 

“I panicked because— I didn’t want people to think I was a _different person_. So, I told my class. It felt right, and it meant that Tony— _that the others_ — they didn’t have to stay with that burden of keeping _my secret._ ” 

 

Peter was certain he’d just crossed line, but he didn’t give a fuck. Thaddeus had offended the Avengers for no reason whatsoever, and Peter wasn’t going to let him continue, just because he wasn’t an _official_ member of the team yet. Now he knew why everyone went into such a sour mood whenever Ross was around—

 

_Because he was an asshole._

 

“Hm,” Ross began, taking his hand off of Peter’s shoulder. This was it— he was about to be escorted off the premises and stripped of his suit _again_. “Well— _you make a good point there_.”

 

Peter made a noise that could only be described as a _confused groan._

 

“I don’t _like_ being the bad guy, but the thing is, the Avengers are partly _my_ responsibility, after the Accords. And the world is their responsibility, which indirectly makes it mine, as well.” Ross had a point, it was true that he was just trying to do his job. “If you’re sure about this— about _properly joining_ — you’ve got to be one hundred percent, Peter.”

 

One hundred percent. The full circle—

 

It was a decision that would change Peter’s life even more so than getting his powers in the first place—

 

A decision that he’d made when he pulled his mask off in that gymnasium.

 

“I understand, Sir.” Peter spoke confidently, clearly; without hesitation.

 

Ross nodded at the kid, his eyes looking towards the floor. It was like time had fully stopped, that the only world Peter was actually living in primarily existed inside that damn conference room, with the fucking Secretary of New York State, dressed in his fucking Spider-Man suit. Ross cleared his throat, looking up at the kid, his eyes glinting.

 

“Alright, then, kid. You’re in.”

 

Peter’s ears were so blocked after leaving the conference room, so clouded by the pumping of his heart inside his body, that he hardly heard his phone ringing. He picked it up without looking at who the hell was calling him—

 

“Hello?” He let out, not truly hearing his own words as they left his mouth.

 

“Parker,” A voice replied, and immediately Peter’s vision cleared, his hearing came back to life. He knew that voice, the voice that had tormented him, joked about him, since he’d first joined Midtown when he was fourteen years old—

 

“ _Flash?_ ”

 

“Yeah,” Flash replied, his voice travelling down the line and meeting Peter’s right ear in such an odd way, an out of the blue circumstance; that he was _physically_ taken aback. All the _‘Penis Parker’s’_ , the humiliation about the Stark Internship, his blatant attempts at trying to embarrass him in front of _Liz_ —

 

“Why—,” Peter stuttered. “Why the _hell_ are you calling me?” He recoiled, his brain in overdrive. “How do you even have my _damn_ number?”

 

Flash was silent for a beat, Peter heard him take in a sharp breath.

 

“I dunno— just, all the news.” This phone call was a side of Flash that Peter had never expect, never wanted to hear. Yet there he was, standing inside the Avengers compound, Spider-Man’s identity truly having been revealed—

 

And he was talking to _Flash fucking Thompson._

 

“What’s it to _you?_ ” He couldn’t help the anger that had begun to bubble inside of him.

 

“Peter— I’m _sorry_ —,”

 

“No— _why the hell are you saying this now?_ ‘Cause I’m a _fucking superhero?_ ‘Cause I’m Tony _fucking_ Stark’s prodigy in the making?” His eyes welled, and all the years of the small jokes that he felt he just had to shrug off, the subtle abuse in the hall ways, the blatant jealously that Flash had for Peter’s intelligence at a younger age, taken out in such a _horrible_ way— it was all coming back to him when he’d spent the last year trying to _forget_ about Flash altogether, since he graduated the year before. “You’re— you’re full of _shit_ , Flash.”

 

“I know.” Flash spoke, his voice small. “I _know_ I am.” Peter’s eyes widened. “I’m just— it was so fucked up what I did. I’ve been wanting to apologise for the past year—,”

 

“Then _why didn’t you_ , huh? Before all of this came out?”

 

The phone static buzzed in Peter’s head, alongside his rage filled body.

 

“I guess— I wanted to say that, I _admire_ you.”

 

Peter’s mouth dropped open.

 

“All the jokes, the mean things I was saying about you and Tony Stark,” Flash chuckled awkwardly, but Peter could tell he didn’t find what he was saying genuinely funny—

 

He _meant_ it. He meant it _properly._

 

“It was actually _true_ , all that shit. The internship, you knowing him, the _Avengers_ —,” Flash paused, and Peter could have sworn he heard him sniff back tears. “I guess I came here to say—

 

“That’s it all come back in my face now, hasn’t it?”

 

Peter stopped, speechless. Because unless his ears were deceiving him, Flash Thompson actually had _feelings_ —

 

Enough feelings to own up to his past mistakes, albeit at a bad time—

 

_But he was actually apologising._

 

“Flash—,”

 

“I’m just— _sorry._ I just wanted you to know that. You— saved my life. Back in Washington. After all the _shit_ I’d done to you for those past _two years_ , _you still saved my fucking life._ ” Peter could hear his sobs now. “And even after it— after you saved my life, I _still_ made fun of you— I—,”

 

“Flash.” Peter cut him off, not fully knowing how the hell the was supposed to respond. He breathed through his nose, his anger simmering down. Peter could appreciate people that owned up to their mistakes, he could forgive. “It was— _it is_ — my job.”

 

“Just,” Flash let out a shaky breath. “ _Thank you._ ”

 

Peter waited a beat, his body calming down even more. He could tell Flash was being genuine, and it’s not like they’d ever be best friends, or even close;

 

But Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate it, if he didn’t almost smile at the fact his former bully had actually just apologised to him for all those years of hate.

 

“You’re welcome.” Peter let out in a small croak, and he found himself chuckling, remembering back to Homecoming. “Tell your dad— I’m sorry for crashing his car.”

 

Flash let out a full on chuckle on the other end of the line, and the noise hit Peter’s gut like he’d just taken a shot of warm whiskey.

 

“Nah,” Flash let out, and it was a voice that wasn’t malicious, or getting ready to make fun, it was one that was enjoying the conversation. “You didn’t actually do that bad for someone who’d never driven properly before. _Experienced_ drivers can’t even flip a car the way you did,”

 

It felt so good to laugh with him, for some reason. And after that it was so easy for Peter to put his anger behind him, for Flash to realise his mistakes and never be— _well_ — _a douchebag_ , to anyone else.

 

Peter looked up when someone rounded the corner, and his face softened _completely_ —

 

MJ stared at him then, a few meters in front of him, her tears dried but her face still puffy. Her smile still very much present, it hit him like a tonne of bricks, filling his gut with a thousand butterflies—

 

But in a _good way._

 

“Uh, Flash— I gotta go.” Peter spoke, all the while looking at MJ as she strolled closer to him, her arms crossed, her face almost amused.

 

“Good luck with all this stuff, Parker. You’ll—,” Flash breathed in, and let out a relieved sigh. “You’ll be a great Avenger.”

 

Flash hung up immediately after that, perhaps from the embarrassment of his past actions. But Peter had already dropped the phone from his ear and slipped it into his pocket, instead replacing his grip from his phone with a snug spot around MJ’s waist.

 

She snaked her arms up to his neck, her hand trailing over Peter’s cheek.

 

“So,” She said, and Peter gave her a boyish smile. “Wanna get out of here?”

 

Peter grabbed her then, suddenly, not caring about looking stupid, cradling her like a bride over the threshold. MJ couldn’t stop scoffing so _loudly_ , her cheeks going the most neon of reds. “Where to, _m’lady?_ ”

 

That made her _totally lose it_ , letting out an embarrassed squeal, flailing her legs up and down in Peter’s grasp. She controlled herself quickly, trying to keep a straight face— which was _impossible._

 

She let out a quick sigh, her face dropping back, close to normal.

 

“I don’t care,”

 

 _I don’t care_.

 

Those three words; I don’t care.

 

They didn’t simply mean the absence of caring in that moment.

 

Those three _damn_ words, coming straight from MJ’s mouth—

 

They meant _so much more_ —

 

They meant, _I don’t care where I go_ —

 

“As long as you’re next to me, dork.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you got what you wanted, ya happy? 
> 
> I've had the best time writing this fic, and thank you so much if you've been reading from the very beginning, or if you've only just discovered my baby! Once again, a thank you to my go to g, Josie, aka my adopted beta, whom I hinted small things to, and who never failed to make my day brighter with a simple screenshot of my work, the caption reading 'Oh my god'.
> 
> My ao3 has grown so large in the past 3 months alone, and I've only had it for about a year! I'm just so incredibly grateful that I'm almost speechless ?? I can't thank you all enough. Without your constant support I wouldn't have the motivation to keep writing, chapter after chapter, about the characters I love and cherish. 
> 
> So, another fic comes to an end. But! If you want to keep up with my others-
> 
> Follow me on twitter, @sparklybuck! I post updates about my ao3 works there, as well as other sarcastic as hell tweets. You can also dm me personally on there about my writing, or just to have a good ol' chat.  
> Ask me random questions here, curiouscat.me/sparklybuck, because there's no better way to fill the boredom than getting an anonymous question, or anonymous hate. Lmao. 
> 
> And as always... 
> 
> Until next time.


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